


As Soon As You Need Me

by Snapdragonesters



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling in Bed, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone else on the ship Knows, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-season 7, because like they're in a war, except lance, gay space boys, just guys being dudes, mild PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-04 06:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16341338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snapdragonesters/pseuds/Snapdragonesters
Summary: Sometimes nights are still hard for Shiro, after everything. Fighting a war, dying in the war, and being resurrected to fight in the war again is a lot to ask of a person. Keith is determined to let Shiro know that he's not alone.The rest of the crew of the IGF-Atlas, however, did not ask for this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of thought my fic writing days were over, to be honest. But then I got trapped in gay space boy hell, so HERE I AM

Shiro is floating through space. The stars wheel gently around him, galaxies caught in a snapshot of a life of innumerable years, swirling and spinning and growing and dying. The lions float past to say hello. Green, with a twinkle in its eye. Blue, head cocked to the side. Yellow, with a low grumbling purr. Red, staring at him steadily. His gaze locks with Red and vaguely he wonders where his- where Keith’s lion, one day- is.

 

Where is Black?

 

A wriggle of discomfort begins in Shiro’s stomach. This was nice, but the universe needs him. His paladins, they need him. Shiro tries to move. Tries to turn his head, to look down at his hands. To call out.

 

He can’t move.

_Oh god. Not again._

 

Shiro tries to clench his hands, to shout, but he is immobile. He has no voice. _He has no throat_. He’s floating, barely more than nothingness, and in his head a scream without beginning or end starts to build.

 

His paladins are fighting for their lives.

 

No, not just their lives- they are doing their absolute damndest to save the universe. The five- four- are giving everything they have. Pidge yells, the sound ripping her throat raw. Her lion gathers its energy and fires a green bolt at the robot, but it’s fast- so fast, impossibly quick. Shiro’s phantom limbs clench. It would have hurt if he’d had limbs. Lance hollers as Red darts to the side, trying to attract Lotor’s attention. Hunk, steady and strong, fires without pause at the abomination of a robot. His brown eyes are rock hard and his jaw clenched. Allura charges Lotor’s twisted version of Voltron headfirst, reckless, beyond thought, trying to smash him into oblivion.

 

Then Keith is there.

 

He practically shines from inside the black lion, guiding his team. _Patience yields focus_ , Shiro hears in Keith’s voice.

 

Then, without warning, Lotor is there. His robot goes supernova and white is all Shiro sees. Then it’s just Lotor himself, facing Black. Tall and strong, stronger than it was possible to be, he drags the lion’s jaws open with his bare hands and forces himself inside. He’s in the head, in the cockpit, dragging Keith out of the seat by his hair.

 

_Oh, god, please no. Please, god. Keith. Keith._

 

Lotor kneels next to Keith, a smile curling at the corners of his sharp mouth. Blood runs down Keith’s face from his temple, and his eyes flutter, but they meet Lotor’s with utter defiance. Lotor’s smooth voice slides through space like oil.

“Well well. Some leader you are.” He drags Keith’s head back by his hair and licks up his neck, following the sharp jawline with his repulsive mouth. A corpse’s tongue on that smooth skin would have been less foul. Shiro’s mind roars.

 

_No!! NO!! Keith!_

 

Keith’s eyes go agonized, and he squirms and fights the hand that forces his head back. Then, even worse, he goes limp. His hands fall to his sides, curling into loose fists and then relaxing. Lotor’s lips tickle the hair by Keith’s ear as he breathes the words into them.

“This is it. The dawn of a new empire.” He says it almost lovingly as he draws back his arm and, with taloned hands, shoves his whole arm through Keith’s chest. It protrudes out his back, dripping with blood and bits of flesh, holding Keith’s heart.

 

**_NO!_ **

 

 

A wordless cry rips from Shiro’s throat, so loud and shocking that it wakes him. His covers are twisted around his limbs and he thrashes in the dark, sweat cooling on the sheets as it’s exposed to air. His hand flashes- literally flashes, in the black of his room- and he cuts through the covers like butter. They fall off his body in shreds as he launches out of the bed. His breath is coming hard and fast, and he’s got spots in his vision that swim through the blackness in front of his eyes.

Without warning, his door flies open and a soft band of light falls on the floor.

“Shiro? What’s wrong?”

Silhouetted in the door stands Keith, his blade of Marmora already unsheathed and humming in his hand. He looks around the room wildly, seeking a foe. His eyes land on Shiro, and Shiro starts to feel shame creeping up on him.

“Shiro?”

“I… Nothing. Nothing is wrong.” Shiro makes himself sit on the edge of the bed, although his muscles stay rigid. If he were alone he’d pace the edges of his room, or bolt to the training center and take out a few hundred training robots. Fight until he was too tired to think or feel.

Keith slowly lowers the blade, and takes a few cautious steps forward.

“I thought… I’m sorry. I thought you were being attacked.” Shiro can hardly see him, but he can still tell Keith is looking at him in a way that Shiro hates. Questions that Shiro has no answer for live in the gaze that follows the taller man. Shiro clenches his hands in the bedsheet, knuckles white.

“I’m fine. Just… a nightmare.” The contents of the nightmare come back to him and his stomach lurches. Urgency cuts through the humiliation and he looks Keith up and down, soaking in his wholeness. He wants Keith a million light-years away so he won’t have to see this, but he also wants to run his hands up and down the boy’s entire body, check him for injuries. For alien saliva and holes in his chest. Keith sheathes his blade and walks straight up to him, putting his hands on the Shiro’s shoulders. He _should_ by all rights be edging away from Shiro and his glowing hand and the cold sweat that runs down his back, but he’s not. The heavy warmth is surprisingly comforting, the touch a living reminder that he’s not alone. Shiro lets his eyes close, because it’s easier. He can hide in the dark.

“Hey. Look at me.” That rough-edged voice is impossibly compelling, and Shiro looks. Deep gray eyes meet his own without a hint of fear or disgust. And oh, maybe that’s not pity in them- now that Shiro is meeting his eyes, it looks more like compassion. The same look he had on that godforsaken base of gray rock where the man he thought was Shiro tried to kill him.

He still has the scar from it. The scar the clone gave him- the scar _Shiro_ gave him. Shiro even has fragments of the memories, maybe because his consciousness is now living in the same body. Keith looking at him, eyes begging, _I’m not leaving here without you_ , Shiro pushing down on the crossed blades, pushing until his arm blade burns a cut in Keith’s face-

Shiro breaks eye contact with a sharp inhale of breath, barely managing to clamp down on the yell trying to rip itself from his throat. His hand lifts of its own accord and gently, ever so gently, cups Keith’s face. Keith matches his sharp inhale, perhaps afraid of what Shiro is going to do, or confused. Shiro meets his eyes desperately, thumb running softly along the scar.

“Keith… Sorry.” He yanks his hand away, unwilling to sully something so pure. “I’m so sorry-”

“Hey.” Keith shakes his head and he’s grabbing Shiro’s hand, bringing it back to rest on his face by the scar.

“Easy, Shiro. I told you, I’m not giving up on you. Remember?” He half-smiles, and it’s so soft and gentle that Shiro can barely stand to look at it. His thumb finds the scar again on its own and follows it up and down. Keith doesn’t seem to mind, surprisingly enough- maybe he understands that this is something Shiro needs. He just stands still and quiet, breathing into the space between them, eyes locked on Shiro’s. Shiro keeps his eyes on the scar. It’s almost more of a discoloration, colored like a birthmark rather than puckered like a true scar. A burn that healed flat and smooth, not like the slight dip in Shiro’s nose.

Shiro takes a deep breath and tries again.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Keith. I wish I… I hated…” _I wish I had been there to help. I hated abandoning you. I hated watching the me that you believed in try to destroy you_. He ground the words out. “I wish I had been there for you.”

Keith is already shaking his head, compassion and something else lighting his dark eyes. He leans forward and, in a very confusing move, brushes his lips against Shiro’s forehead.

“None of this is your fault, Shiro. You- you _died_. You couldn’t help it.” His voice is firm, and his words are frank enough that Shiro feels a little silly. No, he couldn’t help it, but that was what Keith deserved. He deserved someone capable, someone who could- bare minimum- manage to stay alive to take care of him.

Keith is standing close, so close Shiro can smell his skin, feel the warmth radiating off his body. The proximity makes him realize he’s shivering. The air is cool on his skin, but Shiro is shaking from the inside, not the out. Keith moves to his side and kneels on the bed, avoiding eye contact as he turns Shiro’s pillow over so the dry side faces up. He shrugs out of his jacket as Shiro watches him, perplexed. Then he flops down and stretches out on his back, dark undershirt and pants barely visible in the dim light, jacket resting next to him.

“Well, what are you doing? Lay down.” The slight quiver in his voice is the only thing that betrays his uncertainty. That and his eyes. It sounded like a command, but there’s definitely caution in his eyes as he gestures vaguely at the space he left between them. If Shiro tells him to, Keith will leave and they won’t ever speak of it again. It should be a strange suggestion, it should throw Shiro for a loop, but a quiet voice in the back of his mind suggests that the bed looks a lot less cold and empty with Keith in it. Shiro stares for a minute, trying to calculate probabilities, asking himself about the impact on the team and the implications and if there _are_ any implications at all. Then he gives up.

Keith has left an arm extended towards Shiro, bisecting the space Shiro’s shoulders and head would go if they were to lay without touching. Shiro could move it. But he doesn’t want to, so he eases himself down next to Keith and gingerly rests his head on the other boy’s shoulder. Keith huffs a gentle sigh, sounding almost relieved, and drags his jacket across to settle it over the upper half of Shiro’s body. Oh right… Shiro isn’t wearing a shirt, just a pair of shorts. Probably a good thing, because any shirt would be soaked through with sweat.

Keith’s breathing, the rustle of sheets as he moves, the heat of his body, the smell of his jacket are all blessed reminders that Shiro isn’t alone. Shiro can feel the muscle tense slightly under his head and by his side when the boy shifts. It’s almost shocking how reassuring it is to have another living body in his space. Actually, come to think of it, the last time Shiro felt this connected was with Adam- and that was a long, long time ago. The shivers ease and subside between the jacket and the warmth radiating from Keith. The boy must be part furnace as well as part Galra- or maybe the Galra themselves just run hot. Shiro closes his eyes and turns his head when his neck starts to get stiff. In the quiet, with his ear next to Keith’s chest, Shiro can hear his heartbeat. In his mind’s eye, he sees Keith slump as Lotor holds that heart in his hand… but the image melts away under the insistent pounding in his ear. He can hear it, and it’s not going anywhere.

The tension is gone and Shiro is almost starting to doze when Keith breathes in and hesitates, then speaks quietly into the dark.

“Earlier, before you yelled, I…” He pauses for a few quick heartbeats. “I thought I heard… my name. You sounded upset.”

Had Shiro been talking in his sleep? He feels himself flush in the dark, and scrambles to find some recollection of him saying Keith’s name. He finds nothing but the desperation of watching Lotor overpower Keith, watching him touch Keith with the dried blood of thousands on his hands-

“I was dreaming about before, when I was stuck in the Black Lion.” There. That was technically true, and it felt… safe. But Keith cocked his head, hair brushing against Shiro’s face.

“I see. That must have been hard. Was there anything else?” Keith asks, voice very neutral. Shiro opens his eyes a little, risking a glance over. He can’t see much in the dark, this close to Keith’s face. Is it just him, or has Keith’s heart rate sped up? It’s definitely faster than it was before, though he can’t hear it when they talk. He nods, very slowly.

“You were- Voltron was fighting Lotor and his robot. I could only watch… I still relive it, I guess, sometimes.”

Keith lets out a heavy breath and fidgets, his cheek coming to rest ever so lightly against the top of Shiro’s head. His arm curls a little closer around Shiro’s far shoulder, a comforting and almost protective touch.

“I’m sorry, Shiro. You know we- I- never could have made it through that without you.” Keith’s voice is gentle and genuine and god, if that doesn’t make Shiro’s heart feel about as full as a star about to go supernova. On impulse he leans his head to press against Keith’s cheek, the only thank-you he can manage past the lump in his throat. For a few moments they just rest there, and Shiro’s mind begins to wander again. At least he hadn’t had to explain that Keith had been the most important one in that dream, that Keith had- _how had he heard it_? Shiro frowns.

“How did you get here so fast?” He asks the darkness. “I had only just woken up and you were opening the door.” Keith stiffens almost imperceptibly, and there goes that heart rate again. Odd.

“Sometimes I like to walk around at night, if I’m having trouble sleeping. You know, just- check that everyone’s here.” And, oddly enough, Shiro does know. It’s the same reason that the dream dissipates when Keith is here, his heart beating steadily in Shiro’s ear. Shiro’s eyes slide closed and he sighs, feeling drowsiness tug at the edges of his consciousness.

 

“Yeah. I know.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which almost everyone else figures it out, if they haven't already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I went back and watched the end of season six again for Research Purposes and I can say with certainty that I've never seen anything gayer than these two saving each other a billion times

The room is dark when Keith stirs drowsily. Of course it’s dark- it’s space, there is no sunrise. But the light from the hallway is brighter and more yellow, the “day” setting of the ship, so it must be morning.

Something heavy is pinning Keith to the bed. Oh, right. Not his bed. _Shiro’s bed_. Keith is in Shiro’s bed, and the heavy body lying next to him…… that would be Shiro.

Electricity tingles along Keith’s nerve endings and his heart lurches. He takes a moment to acclimate himself to the fact that last night wasn’t just a fever dream caused by some crazy space virus that induced very pleasant hallucinations. It can’t have been, because he’s tired and his arm is asleep. As Shiro had settled next to him and drifted off, Keith had done his best not to move. If he moved, Shiro might come to his senses and realize _oh wait, I don’t want him here_ and kick Keith out. He was also hyper-aware of the other man’s proximity and, despite the time, his wired mind would not let him drift off. So he lay next to Shiro and listened to his deep contented breathing, and hoped that morning would never come.

It seems he managed to drift off for the last few hours, because morning had arrived. Awfully rude of it. Now it’s definitely time for him to leave though, unless he wants to send rumors flying through the whole ship. Keith carefully lifts his head, assessing his options.

Shiro is sound asleep, even snoring softly (Keith immediately decides this is adorable) as he rests with his head still on Keith’s shoulder. No wonder his arm is numb. Shiro had turned away from him during the night, and part of his bare lower back shows under the edge of Keith’s jacket, skin smooth and muscled- okay, Keith needs to leave. _Now_.

Keith eases up carefully, ever so carefully, letting Shiro’s head shift as he moves away. He snags the pillow under his head and moves it to replace his arm as he withdraws it. It’s a good thing he didn’t need that arm for anything at the moment, because it’s completely numb- he can’t even lift it, or curl his fingers. Oh well. Keith sits up as Shiro’s light snoring dies out. The larger man shifts, grumbling something unintelligible, and stretches out again with a contented sigh. Keith can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. He’s sort of honored that Shiro, their strong and fearless leader, would allow Keith to be present when that façade was gone. Sometimes he kind of forgets that Shiro is just a man, albeit an extraordinarily good one. The best, in fact, as far as Keith is concerned. 

Keith slides carefully off the bed, moving as steadily as possible so he doesn’t disturb Shiro. He leaves his jacket draped over the other man, because what sort of monster would he be to take it and leave Shiro cold?

The door is still cracked open and Keith slips out, easing it carefully closed behind him. He turns on heel-  
And nearly jumps out of his skin, because Hunk is standing there in the hallway, staring at him. Oh, Quiznak. Keith did not ask for this.

“Umm… what, what are you doing? Why were you in Shiro’s room?” Hunk is looking at him in this mystified sort of way, and if he doesn’t come up with something, the big guy is gonna start putting some things together that he _really should not_. Keith tries very hard to keep a poker face, though he’s definitely panicking and he thinks maybe his eye is twitching.

“I was… I was looking for… my sword!” Keith checks his hip just to be sure, and yep, he definitely left the Blade of Marmora on the floor in Shiro’s room. Thank god. Hunk is squinting at him though, and Keith realizes that’s not the most believable lie. Time to commit hard. He holds his hands out, showing their lack of blade.

“I mean, have you ever seen me without it? I lost it yesterday, and I thought maybe I left it with Shiro when I was talking to him, you know, about charging times for the lions. With us being on the Atlas, and all.” Maybe if it doesn’t work, he can threaten to eat all the sugar in the kitchen so Hunk will have nothing to work with when he bakes.

Hunk stares for a few moments more, then nods. “It is pretty weird to see you without your Blade of Marmora, dude. And where is your jacket? You’re throwing me off, man.” Hunk shakes his head and begins walking in the direction of the kitchens, probably to make breakfast. Keith watches him go, then books it as fast as possible down the hallway away from Shiro’s room.

 

  
~~~~

 

Hunk finds Pidge on his way to the kitchen. She’s preoccupied with chasing down one of her little fuzzballs she found when the lions had been separated.

“Come on, Pascal! I promise it won’t hurt, it won’t even be heavy. Just let me…” She manages to catch the thing, pouncing on it and wrestling it into a tiny little harness. It squeaks in aggravation, but seems to realize that she’s right when it lifts off again. It still side-eyes her and hovers out of reach as Hunk passes by.

“Come on, Pidge, let’s go get breakfast. I’ll make scones!” He suggests, flour and sugar already his top priority. Pidge falls in step beside him, perhaps lured by the promise of scones. She’s looking up and around as she walks.

“Sure. But tell me if you see Coulomb.” They arrive in the kitchen shortly, where a yellow fuzzball is floating serenely in a corner. Pidge watches it like a cat watching a bird, and sidles in its direction discreetly. Sensing danger, the yellow fuzzball floats higher. Hunk snatches the flour down from a cupboard and shifts through the kitchen’s drawers for measuring cups.

“You know I love the Atlas, it’s a great ship. Also, it can turn into a MASSIVE ROBOT, which is neat. But I gotta say, I miss the castle’s food goo hoses. And I miss knowing where everything is! My kitchen is all messed up,” Hunk says forlornly. Pidge, obviously not listening, mutters in agreement, but Hunk is only just getting started. “Everything is weird! Like don’t get me wrong, it’s great to have a bunch of new crew members so it’s not just us all the time. But I’m used to having my own bathroom! There was someone else in there this morning, Pidge! And _then_ I ran into Keith when he was coming out of Shiro’s room, and he didn’t even have his jacket! I’m not used to seeing that dude without his jacket, ya know?”

A massive, kitchen-shaking crash rings out from behind Hunk. Pidge appears to have fallen off the counter she was climbing to get to Coulomb, taking down half the baking trays with her. She stares over at Hunk with her mouth open, a baking tray hanging off her shoulder.

“Keith- out of- when was this?” She looks so astonished, her glasses askew, that Hunk stops mixing and turns to face her.

“What? What? Why are you making that face?” Pidge pushes up her glasses and they gleam, momentarily hiding her eyes.

“Just answer the question, Hunk.”

“Just now, on my way to find you!” Pidge ignores Coulomb, who is now hovering by her ear.

“So this morning, before-“ Pidge checks her wrist display. “Before 7:43 AM, you saw Keith. Coming out of Shiro’s room. Without his jacket.” She gapes and whispers “Holy shit. Matt was right.” Hunk is very confused, but something is beginning to take shape in the back of his mind.

“Umm, yes? Why do you look like I just told you binary has three symbols? What’s the big deal about-“ And then, just like that, it clicks. “Oh. OOHHHHH!!!” Hunk can feel his eyes go the size of dinner plates.

“You think Keith and Shiro… Shiro and Keith… No way. Noooooo way.” Pidge raises an eyebrow at him.

“Did you notice anything else about his appearance, then? Something that would indicate otherwise? Because I can’t think of a more probable explanation.” Hunk visits the memory and immediately regrets it.

“He had- oh no, now that you mention it, he looked kind of ruffled. And tired. He said he was looking for his Blade of Marmora though!” Hunk clings to it, this last desperate shred of hope.

Pidge cackles, falling sideways on the baking pans and smothering the hope immediately. Hunk claps his hands to his eyes with a groan.

“Pidge! WHY? I didn’t need to know!! Like obviously they can do whatever they want, there’s nothing wrong with it, but it’s kind of like learning about your brother’s sex life. You just don’t need to know.”

Once her snorting subsides, a sly look steals across Pidge’s face. It’s the kind that tells Hunk that someone’s dignity, somewhere, is in imminent danger. She snags the hapless Coulomb, still hovering by her shoulder trying to check on her well-being after her crash landing onto the baking trays. She’s grinning as she wrestles him into a tiny harness.

 

 

~~~~

 

Keith makes his way onto the bridge of the Atlas with a yawn. Some of the other Paladins are already standing around, but Shiro isn’t there yet. Neither are Lance and Allura. God help her, it seems like Lance has actually begun to win her over- they’ve been spending a lot of time together, the past few weeks.

A glance at Hunk makes it apparent that the other paladin is definitely avoiding his eyes. Looks like the big guy finally pieced the evidence together, even if the conclusion he drew was wrong. Kind of. Keith sort of wishes it wasn’t. Oh well- Hunk won’t bother him about it like Lance would have, so it doesn’t matter.

Shiro walks in and Keith’s heart gives an involuntary leap. Maybe Keith is kidding himself, but he thinks Shiro looks better rested than he has been of late. He glances at Keith and gives him a small smile, and something in Keith’s gut relaxes. He had been a little worried that Shiro’s level of comfort around him would change, that he might become uncomfortable or even avoid him. He smiles in return.

Pidge saunters past Keith, giving him a sly glance from under her lashes. Bad. That’s bad. Pidge gave Lance that look when she learned that he despised spiders. Hologram spiders skittered around the ship for _weeks_ afterwards.

“Morning, Shiro.” Pidge is all big, innocent eyes. “Have you seen Keith’s dagger? He was looking for it.”

If Keith wasn’t currently planning Pidge’s untimely trip into deep space, he’d be almost impressed with how quickly she found out. Hunk’s head snaps around and he watches with morbid fascination, like he’s bearing witness to the destruction of a planet or some other heinous crime. Keith adds him to the hit list as he tries to send thoughts directly into Shiro’s head. _Don’t do it, man. Don’t fall for it. We will never ever hear the end of-_

Shiro’s eyebrows lift a little in surprise, then a look of recognition flits across his innocent face, crushing Keith’s hopes to dust. To Keith’s horror he pulls the Blade of Marmora out of his jacket and hands it to Keith. Then he pulls Keith’s jacket out of his bag.

“Oh, here. I had almost forgotten.” He says with a smile. It’s warm and beautiful, and Pidge snorts like a bull and tries to pass it off as a sneeze. Keith shoots her a look promising fire and destruction, which she blatantly ignores.

 

“Right, so we need to run training simulations today,” Shiro tells the assembled paladins, once Lance and Allura arrive. “We can run them from the training room, but we need to work on the plan for taking down those Altean-powered robots. We’re getting close to locking on to the location of their planet of origin, and once we do we need to be ready.” The paladins head down to the training center, Pidge and Hunk talking Altean-space-tracking science and Lance cracking jokes to Allura. Some of the other crew members come to observe.

The simulation technology on the Atlas is way beyond even the Castle of Lions. The Paladins can sit in a circle with some weird headsets and basically interface with the virtual world projected by the ship. It feels a little odd to Keith- piloting his ghostly virtual lion feels almost like piloting the real one, but slightly more dreamlike. Shiro has a virtual version of the Atlas to pilot.

The simulation goes downhill fast. They barely manage to defeat one of the Altean-powered robots, and when another one bursts out of the ground of the virtual planet to join the fight, the battle spirals out of control. The robot blasts the lions apart with a beam, knocking Lance and Pidge out of commission. Hunk tries to distract the robot, but a purple beam from the robot’s chest plate of death glances off him and sends him thundering into the surface of the planet. Shiro is forced to bring the virtual Atlas in to provide cover fire; they had been hoping to keep the Atlas in reserve, so they could work out a plan to free the trapped Alteans.

The final Altean-powered robot (they really need to come up with a shorter name for these guys) turns to Keith’s lion. He grits his teeth and baits it, firing lasers and trying to stay out of reach. It’s no good, and the evil robot manages to get behind him and knock out his power. He’s a sitting duck, and the robot is charging up its chest beam-

A heavy body slams into Keith, knocking him to the side. His headset goes flying off.

“What the hell?” Someone says, maybe Lance. The simulation dissolves and the lights come up. Shiro is crouching in front of Keith, chest heaving. It sends a thrill up Keith’s spine, if he’s honest with himself. Almost immediately Shiro looks chagrined. He stands up and rubs at the back of his neck, sidling away from Keith like it can hide him from the stares of literally everyone in the room. Based on the looks of everyone else, some sort of an explanation is needed.

“Sorry.” Shiro grimaces, looking genuinely rueful that he ruined their precious training simulation. “We were training, I know that. But all of a sudden it was like before when we were fighting, and it was… I lost track of what we were doing, I guess. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” The looks around them range from compassionate (Allura) to confused (Lance) to calculating (Pidge). After a moment Coran shrugs.

“That’s all right, Shiro, it happens! Why, even I sometimes forget what I’m doing for a moment! Ah, I remember the last time, 10,014 years ago when-” Coran starts rambling, but Commander Iverson- who had been observing, along with about twenty of the other crew members of the Atlas- cuts him off.

“Right, that’s enough of that. May I make a suggestion, Shirogane?” He asks, deferring to the acting captain of the ship. Shiro nods, looking a little nonplussed to have Iverson asking him for permission (Keith gets it. It’s just wrong). Iverson addresses the whole group of Paladins.

“Clearly you need to run some slightly different drills, for SOME of your party.” Iverson shoots Shiro and Keith a look that would cow an angry Weblum. “Keith, get that headset back on. You have a very specific job this time- you’re going to die.”

Iverson gives them a new scenario. Keith’s job is to carry in a massive bomb and detonate it, destroying all of the Altean-powered robots and saving the universe. The other paladins and the Atlas have to help him fight his way in and protect him until the last moment, then get clear.

They fail the simulation. Shiro dives in with the robot Atlas at the last minute, ejecting the rest of the crew through the venting system and flinging Keith clear as the bomb goes off and destroys the Atlas.

They also fail the next one. Keith locks eyes with Iverson as he puts his lion in the way of an exploding Galra ship, in between the explosion and Shiro. Iverson looks like he might tear his hair out, if he had hair.

The final failure is particularly spectacular. Shiro looks at Keith and he actually grins as he dives into the exploding planet with Keith, and both the black lion and the Atlas, with its sole crew member, are destroyed in a massive planet-sized detonation.

Somewhere faintly in the background, the groans of the crew and faint strains of- music? - drift across the deck.

 

“ _and IIIIIII will always love youuuuu~_ ”

 

The strains appear to be coming from the floating green fuzzball hovering innocently around the deck. Keith squints at it, but can’t discern anything weird from this distance. It doesn’t even seem to have a mouth. Pidge, on the other hand, is laughing so hard there are tears in her eyes. Matt falls over the rails of the observation deck and lands on Hunk. He comes up wheezing. Lance looks around, utter confusion written in big bolded letters all over his face.

“What is going ON?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really could not help but give a little nod to arahir's parkour fic, because it was so good that reading it inspired me to write again. 
> 
> Most of my updates will not be this fast, I'm afraid, but I'm avoiding reality because I like Voltron better. So here you go, friends. Enjoy. I live for sharing this suffering with you all


	3. Chapter 3

The bed creaks as Shiro rolls over again with a huff, kicking the twisted covers away from his legs. He feels restless. His room is dark, and the Atlas is asleep, but Shiro’s wound up and he doesn’t want to think about the nightmares that will likely come when he finally shuts his eyes. He almost thinks he can feel the potential energy building up in his body, making him feel like an over-charged wire. Any moment the voltage will overcome the resistance and he’ll have to move. Staying still is not an option.

Shiro swings his legs to the side and sits up abruptly. The surge of energy simmers down to a low undercurrent. They’ve been busy helping settle the other crew members in to the Atlas and attending to the needs of the ship, and Shiro’s done a lot of sitting and a lot of talking. He needs to use his muscles if he actually wants to get some sleep.

There’s a quiet voice in the back of his mind whispering that it wouldn’t be so hard to sleep if Keith was here in his bed again. He quickly takes that voice and stuffs it into a tiny little mental compartment, quarantining the rest of his mind. He should _not_ be thinking about Keith that way, not when he’s in a position of leadership like this. If he’s not careful he could coerce the paladin into doing something he doesn’t want to. Because he doesn’t want Shiro like that, right?

The quiet voice suggests that no one has ever seen Keith do something he didn’t want to do, so if Keith does it, it’s because he wants it. Unbidden, so _very_ unbidden, an image of a tousled Keith looking up at Shiro with Shiro’s hands in his hair busts through the walls of the mental compartment like an intrusive thought, and Shiro accidentally bites his own tongue hard enough to make himself bleed. He needs to find something else to do, and he needs to do it fast.

The hallways leading to the training room are quiet and dimly lit. Shiro appreciates this. When he makes it to the padded room, he selects a training program meant for multiple people. It’s wonderful, because once he starts it, he has no time to think about anyone or anything except avoiding being shot. Even if the little drones don’t use anything but weak lasers that deliver a minor shock, it’s unpleasant when they hit him. He lets himself go blank, seeing and reacting and moving without thinking. That last bit is important- it's what he's here for. Fighting is one of the best ways for Shiro to shut off his brain. Not much else matters when his body thinks every moment could be life or death.

Some indefinite amount of time later, Shiro slices down the last drone and hits the power button on the simulation. He’s sweat-soaked, so he showers in the room off the training area that reminds him of a locker room on earth. He takes longer than usual, a little self-conscious about the smell of sweat clinging to him- which he tells himself is ridiculous, because _NO ONE is going to be close enough to smell him tonight, so it doesn't matter_. He snags a clean pair of shorts and a tank top, which he keeps in the room for just such a time, and starts to leave the training deck of the ship.

At the door, he hesitates. He could go straight back to his room. He could fall into bed and hope that the exhaustion will keep away the dreams.

Or… or he could take the long way around. The way that happens to pass by Keith’s room. He’s not going to knock, not going to wake Keith up- he’s just taking the long way around. He tells himself this as his feet automatically turn away from the hallway leading to his room, padding down the other corridor. The castle is quiet and still. Shiro slows as he approaches the last corner before Keith’s door. What is he even doing here? He can’t give in to what he wants, slip in to Keith’s room and under his covers. What would he even say? “Hey, Keith, can I sleep here tonight because it makes me feel better to have you next to me? Because when the nightmares come, the only thing that makes them fade away again is that you’ve convinced me, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you'll be by my side”? Yeah. That’s not dramatic at all. Really the thing for a leader to do.

Shiro turns on heel, with every intention of leaving- but there’s the soft sound of footsteps behind him. He hesitates for a long moment.

“Hey.” His will breaks, just a little, at the low sound of Keith’s voice. He turns back, and Keith is standing there. His arms aren’t crossed over his jacket as usual, or posted on a hip, or fiddling with his bayard. They hang loosely by his sides. His expression is unusually soft, too. There’s no fight in it, no cold indifferent façade or fiery anger. It’s open, almost vulnerable.

“Hey.” Shiro says. He can hear his voice soften without his permission, and god, he wants this. A part of him he can’t manage to restrain is so damn glad Keith is here. His presence alone eases the tension Shiro always carries with him. He can feel himself leaning forward, like he’s iron and Keith is a human-sized magnet. Keith shifts, and suddenly Shiro desperately needs to know why Keith is out here instead behind the closed door of his room.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Shiro asks. Cautiously, ever so cautiously, testing the waters.

“No, not well.” Keith says quietly. “Sometimes it’s hard to be still, after everything.”

Shiro nods. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” A silence falls between them, and it’s loaded. Shiro wishes he could read Keith’s mind. Keith is looking at him with this inscrutable look in his steel eyes. Why is he wandering around in the middle of the night again? Maybe… there’s a chance that Keith is tired of being alone, too.

Keith huffs a sigh, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Why are you here, Shiro?” He asks softly, and it’s not an accusation. There’s longing in his voice. It sounds like it sounded on that godforsaken rock where he saved Shiro’s life. His eyes are soft and prompting, meeting Shiro’s without looking away. He’s taller now than he used to be. The top of his head would fit right under Shiro’s chin. Shiro remembers the sound of his heart beat, the feel of his breathing as his chest rose and fell softly.

“I was looking for you.” The words are out of his mouth, impulsive and impossible to resist, and Shiro’s breath halts as he waits for Keith’s reaction. Keith’s eyes widen a fraction, and he inhales sharply through his nose. Then a small smile curves the corners of his mouth.

“Well. I’m here.” Shiro has the absurd urge to walk over and hold Keith’s face in his hands, so he does it. The paladin’s hair brushes his fingertips as he gently frames the sharp face. Keith’s eyes get big as he looks up at Shiro, but he doesn’t move away. Shiro’s faintly surprised when his breath stutters. His cheeks are warm under Shiro’s hand, and even the robotic one can feel the softness of his skin.

“Thank you, Keith.” Keith looks at Shiro for a long moment, a little pink in the cheeks. Then he tears his eyes away and steps past Shiro, bumping him gently on the shoulder as he does.

“Are you coming?” he asks, voice a little gruff. Shiro turns to follow without comment. Their steps echo in the hallway as they walk together towards the bridge. It’s dark when they arrive, lit only by the low ambient light from the monitors. Keith approaches one of them and presses a few buttons. The windows clear of symbols, and the rest of the ambient light in the room fades away. The windows give an almost uninterrupted view of the stars and galaxies surrounding them. Nebulas of star dust float by, barely lit by the light of the nearest stars. Keith doesn’t look away from them as he speaks.

“I come up here sometimes at night when it’s hard to sleep. It’s quiet.” Shiro steps up beside him, letting their shoulders brush lightly.

“It’s peaceful,” he agrees.

They stand together, watching worlds drift by until Shiro’s feet start to feel numb. He stifles a yawn. Then another- his earlier workout in the training room is finally catching up to him. Keith looks over.

“You look tired. Want to go to bed?” He asks easily, and damn. That’s a little more straightforward than Shiro expected. That is what Shiro wants though, and wants badly. And if Keith is okay with it… his mind jumps to places that it really shouldn’t. He shouldn’t assume, Keith has never told him that he’s interested in men. But even if he just means for them to share a bed like last time, Shiro would welcome it. Shiro tells himself he’s not taking advantage of the paladin. Keith offered.

“Umm… sure, yeah. Let’s go.” He starts to turn, but Keith is making a strangled sound. He looks back and even in the faint starlight, Keith is beet red.

“That wasn’t what I-! I mean, I just meant you, not both-” he stammers. Shiro immediately feels a rush of panic.

“Oh god. I’m so sorry Keith, I didn’t understand. You have absolutely no obligation-”

“Wait.” Keith interrupts him with a touch on the arm. “I, uhh, I want to. That wasn’t what I meant, originally, because I figured you didn’t- err. But, if you don’t mind… It was nice. Last time.” The panic ebbs and the rush of relief almost makes Shiro lightheaded. Keith is standing close. Shiro has to clench his hands to keep from reaching for his face again.

“Agreed.” He says, and Keith can’t entirely hide a smile.

Shiro leads the way back to his room, hyper aware of Keith treading quietly beside him. His breathing is steady in the quiet hallway, but it sounds almost regulated. Too continual and even to be natural. Shiro tries not to dwell on that and what it might mean if Keith’s actively avoiding breathing faster than usual.

He opens the door to his room to let them both in and has a minor crisis as Keith steps past. Does he shut the door? Leave it open? He absolutely does not want someone to walk by and see Keith in his bed through the open door, but shutting it seems to have… implications, and he doesn’t want Keith to feel uncomfortable. He hesitates, but then shuts the door quietly. Implications are more ambiguous and easier to ignore than the uproar of someone getting ideas about why Keith is sleeping in his bed. The thought makes him shiver.

Keith is standing with his back to Shiro, shrugging out of his jacket. Oh good god, is he going to undress? Shiro won’t survive. But surely not. Surely, it will just be the jacket that comes off. Shiro doubts that Keith normally sleeps in pants, but he probably feels uncomfortable just shucking them off and crawling into bed.

Keith shucks them off, leaving him standing in just his boxers and an undershirt. Clearly, Shiro has overestimated Keith’s shyness. Even in the near dark, Shiro’s eyes jump down to the Danger Zone and he has to drag them back up, but not until he gets an eyeful of leg. Damn. Deep breaths, Shirogane.

Shiro’s only wearing soft shorts and a tank top, and those are most definitely not coming off, for his own sanity. He removes his prosthetic and approaches the bed like he’s approaching a dangerous beast. Keith, apparently having no such qualms, dives under the covers. He shuffles around until he’s comfortably situated on his back, and looks up at Shiro for the first time. He gives the taller man a raised eyebrow.

Shiro climbs in to bed. He kind of wants to discuss how they’re going to do this. They need a plan. Are they just going to sleep next to each other? Are they going to cuddle? What if Shiro does something Keith doesn’t like? At this rate, he’s never going to-

Keith’s hand finds Shiro’s in the dark and he rolls onto his side, pulling Shiro’s arm over him. Well. That works. His hair tickles Shiro’s face as Shiro’s arm tightens around him. Keith sighs long and slow, and Shiro can feel him relax. Shiro’s arm rests over his waist, rising and falling with the gentle movement of the paladin’s stomach. The fabric of the undershirt shifts under his fingertips when Keith breathes, and it’s utterly distracting. It would be awfully easy to slip his fingers under that shirt and- NOPE, Shiro is not going there. Deep breaths.

There’s hardly any space separating them and Shiro can feel the heat radiating from Keith’s body. It’s soothing, once he mentally gets past the immediate proximity of all that smooth skin. It’s not easy to ignore, but Shiro will never sleep otherwise, so he does his best. He sighs, his breath on the back of Keith’s neck, and the paladin shivers slightly.

“Sorry.” Shiro murmurs.

“It’s fine.” Keith replies. He shifts, and his shoulders make contact with Shiro’s chest. Shiro closes his eyes and listens as Keith’s quiet breathing evens out. He’s right on the edge of sleep when Keith’s legs twitch, pulling him back in the direction of consciousness. Keith must actually be out, because his legs twitch again and Shiro is reminded of his big blue and black space wolf sprawled on the floor, all four paws in the air twitching. He smiles at the thought and feels a rush of fondness for the paladin. The haze of sleep is messing with his normal decision-making process, so because he’s dying to do it, he slowly nuzzles until his nose meets the back of Keith’s neck. He refrains from brushing his lips against the skin there though, because even in his current state he recognizes that it would cross the kinda-sorta-platonic-if-you-squint line that they’re toeing right now. He falls asleep like that, pressed close to Keith’s body.

 

~~~

 

  
Keith wakes up in Shiro’s bed again, which is still a novel thing. He could get used to it, though. The ship is still on the nighttime setting, and Keith guesses they have maybe an hour before the lights come up. They’ve migrated away from each other in the night. That won’t do. Keith turns over until he rolls up against Shiro, then wiggles until he’s sprawled on his stomach and pressed up against Shiro from shoulder to knee.

Covers rustle as Shiro stirs. He hums and tosses an arm over Keith’s back, the weight landing comfortably below his shoulder blades. Then a leg follows it, settling heavily over the backs of his thighs. Oh. There’s not a lot of fabric in between them- none, in some places, since Shiro’s wearing shorts and Keith left his pants lying on the floor of Shiro’s room. Suddenly Keith is very glad he’s lying on his stomach.

The same, however, cannot be said for Shiro and there’s definitely something going on down there besides leg. He’s pressed up against Keith from hip to head and he’s a guy, and it’s morning, and suddenly Keith is flashing back to every late-night fantasy he’s ever had about blowing Shiro. Unfortunately that film reel is a rather long one, and it’s not helping his physical situation. He could leave, but he really doesn’t want to. If this is going to be a regular thing (Keith doesn’t think he could live if they stopped, now that he knows what he’d be missing) he should give Shiro the chance to get used to the bed-sharing thing after he’s had a night to sleep on it. Maybe Shiro will stop looking at him like he’s sure he’s taking advantage of Keith- the thought is kind of laughable, because there’s almost nothing Keith wouldn’t be more than okay with the two of them doing.

For now, he needs to get his body under control. Keith pictures the belly of the Weblum in as much detail as he can, and the excitement coursing through his body sputters and dies. Nothing like the mental image of being inside a giant planet-eating space leech’s body to kill arousal. He lets himself relax, just soak in the warmth and comfort of Shiro’s body on his. He must drift off again, because the next thing he knows Shiro is saying his name in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Keith?” Shiro must have only just woken up, because he’s not yet bothered by the fact that he’s wrapped around Keith like Slav trying to avoid a crack on the floor.

“Mmm. I’m here.” Keith lets his voice stay lazy and content, encouraging Shiro not to move. It appears to work, because Shiro starts to tense like he’s thinking about getting up, but then he slumps back against Keith with a sigh. His thumb even rubs gentle circles against Keith’s shoulder blade where his hand rests, and yeah, Keith could get used to this. He hums contentedly and stretches where he lays, enjoying the friction of Shiro’s body against his when he moves. There’s still the temptation to give in, to turn and run his hands and his mouth all over Shiro’s body, but he’s not allowed to do that. Not allowed to do that YET, his entirely unhelpful mind supplies, and he has to shove down the hope that’s been building inside him, because he doesn’t even want to imagine what it will feel like if Shiro rejects him. So for now, he’ll settle for this. 

Hey, Keith?” Shiro asks, sounding hesitant. Keith’s heart skips a beat, and he doesn’t move. Shiro’s thumb is still tracing circles on his back.

“Yeah?” He tries to keep his voice from sounding too nervous. Are they finally going to acknowledge this- whatever this is?

“I think…” Shiro says slowly. “I think maybe I-”

 

The proximity alarm goes off. Keith groans in frustration, unheard under the blaring noise. He’s never been so irritated in his life. Whatever set it off is about to have a really, really bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about the cliffhanger I'm horrible and I feel for all of you

**Author's Note:**

> The number of soulful looks these two exchange in canon is too high to be real and I live for it. I actually have more of this written, so hopefully updates will come soon!


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